Schrödinger's
by Anon-sama
Summary: What's inside the box? Is it… alive? Implied 1827. You decide. And I still didn't know which genres to choose.


Schrödinger's - Implied 1827, written for Hibari's birthday, which is today in my timezone.

Warnings: May be misleading due to my word choice. Up to you, haha.

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The box had been waiting for him at his front door. Lying there simply, waiting to be picked up and opened. At first, his interest had not been aroused by the mere sight of the cardboard container. When he saw it, he figured it might be a practical joke, so he left it. After a few moments of consideration, he scrutinized it closer, wondering if it was important. Who could have left it there?

He left it alone and went back into his house. It could have been dangerous. What if it was an explosive? He didn't want to know. He decided not to touch it, much less kick it over the fence to the neighbors' yard. He returned to observe it after an hour, and he noticed that the contents were slowly leaking out.

His face was still stoic as ever. The red liquid seeping out from the bottom of the box tainted the ground and grass before him. Its consistency was thicker than that of water. He remained cautious and did not dare make contact with it. What kind of a prank was this?

He continued to inspect the box from all angles. It was made of beige cardboard and decorated tastefully with a red ribbon. It was plain otherwise, not even wrapped. He found nothing special with it, except for maybe the sweet smell emanating from its confines. Would it be wise to touch it?

He mussed his dark hair in slight confusion. He decided that he must open the box to at least satiate his curiosity. Carefully, he prodded the container with a tonfa. The thing inside stained the walls of the light-colored cardboard even more, and he swore he could hear a squelching sound. Who would send him such a disgusting, perishable object?

Hibari Kyoya put his weapon aside and decided that he must lay his hands on the contents, no matter what they were. He would not die, even if they were to be explosives, or something of the sort. He silently pulled the ribbon and let it fall on the grass to be stained with the crimson liquid. He grimaced. Maybe it wasn't such a good idea.

He lifted himself up from his crouching position and entered his home, wondering if someone would come and claim the box. This package definitely was not destined for him, was it? He sat and waited for as long as he could take it, and then went back to poking at the box. This time he would lift one of the box's flaps.

Before he did such a thing, however, he realized that ants had decided to swarm the ground surrounding the package. It was crawling with insects gathering the red liquid, slowly, drop by drop. He deemed that the contents might be sweet. He lifted the box, causing several ants to fall to the ground or cling on desperately to the sides. He did not care for he observed the slow dripping of the crimson juice. Just what was it?

He noticed that the smell had become a little pungent now, a little too strong for his sensitive nose. With both hands, he held the box away from his face and pondered. Sweet and stinky were two attributes that did not suit each other. His hands became coated in red as he squeezed the box too tightly.

He dropped the box out of disgust and it fell, squishing the contents inside. It created more of that sticky fluid. Now, he was a little afraid. His hand shook a little as it went closer. With a swift motion, he opened the box to find a mix of things he would have never wanted to see together.

Inside the box was a cake. A disgusting one, at that. It was composed of butter cake topped with whipped cream, and perhaps, just perhaps, the red liquid seeping through its container was jam or juice or something fairly palatable. Strawberries? He made a twisted face when a wave of stench hit him. Somehow, he had forgotten about its foul odor because the sight in front of him was so atrocious.

Let us recapitulate. He had found a box containing a horribly baked cake. And slapped right on to it were several pieces of cooked mackerel. Why the heck mackerel? He pinched his nose with his cleaner hand and noticed a small card soaked in the red berry juice. Well, that's what he thought it was. Reluctantly, he picked it up between his index and thumb, and eyed it skeptically.

"Happy birthday, Hibari-san! We baked this cake for you. Sorry for the fish, Lambo put those in because he thought that you might not like sweets. I hope you at least look at it before throwing it away. We put a lot of effort in it together!

From Tsuna, Lambo, Fuuta and I-Pin."

He fell backwards slowly, in a daze. And all along, he had thought that it was a rotting brain or some organ that contained a fair amount of water. The smell had been rather misleading, he admitted, but he was touched nevertheless.

_Well then, herbivore, what monstrosity shall I concoct for your birthday?_

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No further comment.


End file.
